


Adjustments

by smithy_of_words



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Injury, Injury Recovery, Loss of Limbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithy_of_words/pseuds/smithy_of_words
Summary: Kiran returns from meeting Solas in the events of the Trespasser DLC.One-shot. Some mentions of traumatic injury and pain, but nothing too gory or detailed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the timeline slightly, so Kiran hadn't lost her arm fully before speaking before the Council.

     Fewer than twenty minutes after Lady Trevelyan declared an end to the Inquisition, dropping Divine Justinia’s writ on the floor in anger, Josephine heard her screams. Echoing in the marble halls of the Winter Palace, Kiran’s sobbing voice could be heard by all the nobles milling about and gossiping. That was unacceptable.

     It was enough to make even the calm and steady Josephine’s blood boil. She pulled her shoulders back, drawing herself up to her full height, and lifted her chin. Her stern voice rang out, “My lords and ladies, I require your compliance. As of this moment, the Winter Palace will be closed off to all individuals, save for the former members of the Inquisition, and Divine Victoria’s retinue. You may leave now.” Her look and tone made it clear that she would brook no opposition.

     While the crowds looked shocked (or as much as they could behind their masks), and began filing out of the main hall, Josephine turned on her heel and marched off. She followed the screams until she found a small room next to the lower kitchens.  In the hall, Bull’s Chargers stood guard, brows knit with concern.

    “I don’t think you want to go in there, m’lday,” Krem spoke softly. “Madame de Fer and Sister Nightingale are…attending to the situation--Stitches, too.”

     Josephine swallowed, her mouth as dry as cotton. Was it really so grave a situation? But she shook her head. “No, I will enter. I cannot leave my lady to suffer this alone.”

     Krem paused, about to insist, but just nodded, “…as you wish, my lady.”

     The door swung open, and Josephine took a small step forward, covering her mouth with a gasp.

     The scene that awaited her was something from a nightmare; one of the long tables had been cleared off, the food and cooking utensils thrown on the floor carelessly. Blood was smeared into the grain of the wood, and Kiran was wrapped tightly into what was once probably an expensive table cloth.  A thin leather strap was stuck between her teeth, and Josephine could see the deep marks where Kiran had nearly bitten through it. Her left arm was missing below the elbow, and she had soaked through three lengths of cloth bandage.

     Kiran thrashed left and right, moaning, and it took all of Vivienne’s strength to hold her still. “I know, sweetheart. I know. It will all be over soon, and then you can sleep. We’ll look after you, never you worry.” The famed enchanter’s façade cracked, showing her concern for the woman to whom she’d grown so close over the past few years.

     Hands shaking, Josephine walked softly to Kiran’s side. “My love…oh Maker what—what’s happened to you?” Her eyes filled with tears.

     Leliana looked up from where she was watching, vigilant, in the corner. She strode over and placed her hands on Josephine’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t be here. No one needs to see this.”

     “Why? Because I’m a delicate flower? A child you must protect from the world?” Josephine snapped. “No, I will stay here. No matter what happens, I _will_ remain by her side. Until the time she commands me to leave or…” Her voice wavered, then cracked, as she burst into tears.

     Leliana pulled Josephine into her arms, rubbing her back and muttering soothing phrases in Common and Orlesian alike.

     The screaming had stopped; Kiran lay sleeping—finally passed out from the pain. Vivienne was hard at work, wiping the sweat from Kiran’s face, and using her magic to purge any infection from what remained of her arm.

     Stitches scurried here and there, cleaning up the bloody linens and applying more poultices to the edge of the wound.  There was a limit to what healing magic could accomplish, even Madame de Fer acknowledged, and at this point, any help was welcome.

     Josephine felt like retching at the scene, made all the worse by the stench of cauterizing flesh and pungent healing herbs.  But she merely closed her eyes, focused on evening her breaths, and swallowed. She would not show weakness. When her love woke up, she would show her the brightest smile she could muster—she owed it to her.  

_Sleep, my light. Andraste, don’t take her where I can’t follow._

     But Kiran remained—surviving, if only just.  Hours later, Josephine’s head had bowed forward as she dozed off, but she straightened quickly as she heard the raspy call from the table.

                “W-water…water, please.” Kiran croaked.

                “Yes. Yes, of course.” Josephine stood groggily, swaying on her feet. Making her way to the pitcher of water next to the wash basin and pouring a glass. She made her way back to the table where Kiran was outstretched, and delicately held her head up, helping her take small sips.

                Kiran sighed, putting her head back onto the pile of pillows Sera had brought from her chambers. “Thank you. I’m sorry…I’m sorry you had to witness what you did.”

                Josephine shook her head. “No apologies are necessary, my love. I wanted to be here, no matter what happened.  Thank goodness for the care you received; there was a moment that I…that we…” Tears dropped down her cheeks, unbidden.

                “I’m sorry. I must’ve made such a scene. Well…at least we don’t have to worry about the Inquisition’s reputation anymore, eh Am—Ambassador?” Kiran huffed with humor, her voice harsh and raspy.

                Josephine sniffed, then laughed. “Quite right. If this was an elaborate plan to lighten my work load, you really didn’t need to go to all the effort.”

                It was then that Vivienne and Leliana entered the room, trailed by a very loud Sera. “Move, you poncy arses! That’s my best friend lying there.”

                Sera ran over to Kiran’s side, frantic. She took one look at the former Inquisitor’s missing arm and was momentarily dumbstruck.

                Vivienne pursed her lips. “Finally lost for words, I see.”

                “Well…Shit!”

                Before things got too out of hand with bickering, Kiran changed the subject. “What have you got there, Sera? Flowers?”

                “Oh! Oh, yeah! I found these in the gardens and remembered that they were your favorite.” She thrust out the slightly crushed sunflowers held tightly in her fists. “To help you get better soon.”

                Before Vivienne could state her objections to the theft from the _royal garden,_ the Chargers burst in behind them all. Bull was leading them, of course. “Holy shit, boss! I mean…Andraste’s tits. I thought you were going to shake the damn building down with that noise. But look at you! I mean, you’ll be up and at ‘em in no time.”

                Kiran smiled weakly, face glowing with the sheen of sweat. “Oh yeah, you know me. At least I’m right handed…”

 

                In fact, it was a good two weeks’ time before she could even sit up in bed without help.  It was another week still before she managed the strength to stumble to the chair by her window and drag the sash open partway.  Josephine was by her side nearly the whole time. When she wasn’t helping Kiran pen letters, she made broth in the kitchens with Sera, helped Dorian requisition a series of get-well bouquets from his supporters in Tevinter, and persuaded Cassandra and Varric to team up to write their first collaborative effort. 

                Her friends made every effort to lift her spirits, and Kiran was grateful, but a dark shadow lingered over her mood that she feared would never leave. She had been a mage in the Circle for almost her entire life, trained first as an enchanter, then for nearly a decade as a knight enchanter.  If she could barely get dressed without help, how was she to function? The Inquisition may have been disbanded, but there would always be more trouble to root out, especially with Solas’ treachery revealed… These thoughts plagued her often, as she watched the world below from her window.

                As luck would have it, she needn’t have worried—Dagna was still with them, reluctant to return to her private studies just yet. And on her 31st name day, one of the hottest days in living memory, Kiran was given a large wrapped box, festooned with ribbons and bows (and lots of doodles from Sera).  Everyone who hadn’t gone off on their own adventures was there for the unveiling of the Inquisitor’s new prosthetic limb. It was simple, made of wood and metal, with straps to keep it securely fastened, and runes inscribed within to provide some limited mobility. (And, at Sera’s urging, it came with an extra attachment that allowed the Inquisitor to have a small crossbow added. After all, who is Red Jenny without a bow?)

     Dagna helped her put it on, making notes about adjustments needed here and there, and testing the fit. “How does it feel, Inquisitor?”

     Kiran bent her new limb slowly, grimacing slightly. She rotated it left, then right, and pulled it back again. She sighed. “Well…I suppose this is what my body will be like from now on.” She shook her head, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. This has just…it’s all been a massive shock, really—for obvious reasons. Thank you, Dagna.”

    “Of course, Inquisitor. I hope you like it. And, of course, I’ll be around for quite some time if you need anything changed or added.”

    Kiran smiled, “I don’t doubt your work ethic, but I’m afraid I don’t know how we can pay you anymore. I’m the ex-leader of a defunct organization—not exactly great for access to immense wealth. And—“ she looked at Josephine apologetically, “—I’m afraid we can’t count on any help from Ferelden or Orlais.”

    Dagna just smiled her usual bubbly smile. “It’s fine, Inquisitor. Don’t worry your pretty little head. You gave me enough income to last three lifetimes back in Skyhold. I just want to continue my studies… if that’s acceptable, that is.”

Kiran sighed dramatically to Josephine, “Well, my dear, how can we say no to that face?”

    Josephine chuckled, but gave the dwarf a pointed look. “You may stay with us for as long as you like, but I expect to hear no more reports of you harassing any still-visiting dignitaries. Lady Helen was nearly in hysterics over “bits of the Fade seeping in through her dreams.”

   “But…okay, okay. I got it. No bothering people.” She bowed slightly, and turned to leave the room. “Inquisitor. Lady Josephine.”

    Josephine closed the chamber doors after her, and turned the key with a _click._

    “No more visitors today, I should think. You need your rest.” She smiled fondly.

    Kiran made a show of pouting, but the dark circles under her eyes belied her fatigue. Unbidden, a yawn came out of her mouth. “Well, I’d say my body agrees with you.”

    Josephine sat delicately on the bedspread, next to Kiran’s new forearm. “May I?”

    Kiran nodded.

    Josephine traced the designs in the wood softly, as if too much force would cause pain. She slid her fingers up over the leather straps, where they were lashed to Kiran’s shoulders, and paused a moment.

    Kiran looked up at her from under her eyelashes. “What’s wrong, not a fan?”

    Josephine’s eyes watered slightly, and she swallowed. “No,” her voice cracked, “I just…I wish this didn’t have to happen to you at all. And I’m sorry.”

    A single tear spilled down her cheek, and Kiran wiped it away gently with her right hand, pressing a kiss to Josephine’s lips.

    Josephine wrapped her arms around Kiran and sighed into her now-loose black hair spilling around her shoulders.

    Kiran rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’m okay. We’re going to be okay.”

    Josephine sniffed and nodded. “You’re right. Of course. I’m sorry.”

    Kiran pulled away slightly, and shook her head with a small smile. “Hey, no saying sorry, yeah? It’s over now. It happened. But I’m here, and _we’re_ here, and it’ll take some getting used to, but I’ll be just fine.”

    Then, Kiran’s mouth twitched into a smirk, as she leant down to whisper in Josephine’s ear, her lips just touching the lobe in a way that made Josephine shiver.

    “I think I know what would make this better. How about I get to re-learn your body? I’ve got a new hand now, so it’s a new perspective. A new way…to make you forget your name.”

    Josephine’s heart felt as if it would explode from her chest, and she felt her hands shaking.

    “Yes, my love. That would be…yes.” She exhaled sharply, “…but first, I think you should rest. I’ll be here when you wake, I promise. I’m never leaving your side again.”

    Kiran flopped back onto her pillows, unceremoniously, with a grin. “All right,” she purred, “but just know I’ll be holding you to that.”

    Josephine laughed as she pulled the sheets up and over Kiran’s shoulders. She pressed a sweet kiss to Kiran’s forehead, and smiled. Kiran’s eyes fluttered closed.

 

    Kiran’s small snores filled the room just as Josephine stood to go to the kitchens; her nightmares never allowed her to sleep long, but when she woke up, Josephine was going to present her with her favorite blueberry cakes.

    She tip-toed backward into the hall, and closed the door with a small click.


End file.
